Page 85 of Aviatrix

All I can think about is how the hell am I supposed to find a group no one else has been able to find.

Walker was our only lead, and I’m not even sure he’s sane. If he’s telling the truth, the Legion has advanced alien tech. That could be why they’re impossible to track. If he’s not? We’re still in deep shit.

“You’re a terrible liar, Quay,” Eli murmurs, grabbing my fork and slicing into the pancakes for a bite.

“You said you weren’t hungry!” Aunt Lise scolds. “Don’t steal her food!”

I laugh, even though it hurts. Even though this quiet kitchen, this ordinary morning, could be gone tomorrow. Even though time is running out.

“We have to leave in fifteen minutes, Willa!” Aunt Lise hollers.

“She’ll never be ready in time,” Uncle Rod chuckles, reaching for the newspaper.

He flips it open, and the front page stares back at us. A massive black craft hovering above Washington, D.C.

I go still.

My mind spins. Lark. Wingard. The dead president. The vice president, Julian Rourke, still silent. What if he’s in hiding? What if he’s the one who orchestrated the attack?

And what about VAL? What if the aliens find out about her and destroy her, too?

My stomach churns. I push my plate away.

Eli nudges it back toward me. “Eat,” he whispers. “Ignore the paper.”

I nod, but I can only manage a few bites. Then, it’s time to go.

We pile into Aunt Lise’s minivan. Willa grumbles as she climbs into the third row. Eli and I slide into the middle seat, his thigh warm against mine, and somehow, that’s the only thing I can feel. Uncle Rod claims the front passenger seat. Aunt Lise starts the engine.

Gravel kicks up behind us as we pull out of the driveway and onto the two-lane road.

The conversation swirls around me. Uncle Rod is getting hip surgery in two weeks. Willa’s going to horse camp for the summer. Aunt Lise thinks it’s been a wetter spring than normal.

I want to listen. I want to care. But my thoughts are a million miles away.

For the first time in a long time, I wish Dad was here. I wish he had some sage advice. Some whispered reassurance.

I wish I knew Mom was okay.

Eli’s hand finds mine. Fingers threading together. A quiet squeeze.

I squeeze back.

I haven’t processed what I overheard this morning. I don’t know what it means. Or if I can handle knowing.

But I do know that I’m glad I’m here. With him.

If tomorrow everything shatters, if the world ends, I’d want to spend my last day with him.

Even if I have to wear a dress.

When we arrive, Aunt Lise parks. We get out.

Eli stays close as we step inside the little white church with the steeple.

Stained glass windows scatter reds, oranges, and purples across the pews.

I greet people I don’t know. Eli, on the other hand, is a local legend. Everyone wants a piece of him.